"Yvonne, you’re back. That’s all that matters." as my dad said.

"What do you want to eat? We’ll make anything for you." my mom also welcame her.

Tyler clung to her like a koala.

"Mom, you’re finally home! Now I’ll never have to be alone again!"

Even David, who had always been as cold as ice, was smiling like a fool.

"I knew it, Yvonne. I knew you wouldn’t be able to forget me."

They surrounded her with joy, as if the devastation she had left behind when she abandoned them had never existed.

As if the heartbreak, the desperation, the years of waiting—had all been just a lie.

I remembered how my parents had begged me to stay when I said I was leaving.

My father had collapsed from a heart attack.

My mother had cried until her eyes were nearly blind.

And yet, now— it was as if I had never been there at all.

They used to say Yvonne had no heart.

I helped stabilize the company, defended it against the Gunn Family's suppression.

And when they pushed me onto David’s bed, I knew full well that marrying into the Gunn Family would be like stepping into a pit of fire.

But in the face of their desperate pleas, I still walked in.

After Yvonne left, David fell apart. He drowned himself in alcohol, shut himself away from the world.

I stayed by his side, holding Tyler, never leaving for a second. I helped him through the worst of it, helped him climb out of his misery.

He swore to me—so earnestly—that from now on, we would live a good life together to the future.

And Tyler… When he finally understood that Yvonne had abandoned him, he was devastated. He cried day and night, inconsolable.

It was only after I promised him, over and over, that I would never leave him—that I would always be there—that he finally learned to smile again.

But ten years of devotion meant nothing in the face of Yvonne’s return.

The sound of my wheelchair rolling through the doorway caught their attention.

My parents’ faces stiffened in embarrassment.

"Nadine, you’re back. Why didn’t you tell us beforehand?"

Their expressions made it clear—I had interrupted their perfect family reunion.

I withdrew my gaze and motioned for the caretaker to push me upstairs.

"I couldn’t reach you. How was I supposed to?"

During my hospital stay, there were forms that required a family member’s signature.

I called them hundreds of times.

Not one was answered.

There was also the issue of living arrangements for Tyler and David after I left.